


Man Is One

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-27
Updated: 2007-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-16 07:42:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8093779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Coda to the episode 'Dawn'. With Malcolm's help Trip reflects on his misadventure





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

"Man is one: greatness and animal fused together. None of his acts is pure charity. None is pure bestiality."  
Mariama BÃ¢ (1929â€“1981), Senegalese novelist  
My latest addition to the "Friend In Need" series. RoaringMice beta read this for me. Thank you!  
Â§Â§Â§  
â€œLovely bruises, Commander.â€  
Trip slowly raised his head from the dish of hardly touched â€˜chicken Marsalaâ€™ that stood in front of him. He had expected to find a teasing grin on Malcolmâ€™s face, and was surprised to see, instead, something like empathy in the blue-grey eyes.  
â€œIf you say soâ€¦ youâ€™re the expert,â€ he replied with a tired sigh.  
Malcolmâ€™s eyebrows shot up imperceptibly. â€œThey go well with your sunburn,â€ he added, in a grave voice that was at odds with the light words.  
Trip smiled at the Lieutenant standing straight with both hands wrapped around a steaming cup of â€“ he supposed â€“ black tea. Malcolm looked less pristine than usual with his uniform slightly open at the neck and a few unruly strands of hair down on his forehead. But it was nearly 11 pm; and at this hour, a ragged look only made him more human.  
â€œSeat wonâ€™t bite your butt, Malcolm,â€ Trip drawled out, not minding a bit of company; in fact, happy about it.  
With a twitch of his mouth, Malcolm flowingly slipped into a chair across from him.  
â€œTryinâ€™ to put somethinâ€™ in my stomach,â€ Trip added, shifting the food around in his plate. â€œDoctorâ€™s orders.â€  
â€œNo good restaurants on that moon?â€  
Malcolmâ€™s tone, once again, hadnâ€™t matched his words. It sounded as if the man was more ready for a solid nightâ€™s sleep than for a good banter.  
â€œDidnâ€™t see any.â€  
Propping his elbows on the table, Malcolm looked over the rim of his cup and narrowed his eyes. â€œI take it you didnâ€™t immediately get along withâ€¦ what was his name, by the way: did you find out?â€  
â€œZhoâ€™Kaan,â€ Trip supplied.  
Malcolm jerked his chin slightly up. â€œZhoâ€™Kaan. At least I hope you put some of my combat training lessons to good use, and returned a few of those blows.â€  
â€œThat all you military guys can think of?â€ Trip bit back, feeling a surge of irritation. â€œHow better to whack people?â€  
He watched Malcolmâ€™s eyes grow confused and definitely hurt. The man turned his head a little and shifted his gaze to the floor.  
Dammit. Malcolm didnâ€™t deserve that lecture. He certainly wasnâ€™t the type of military man who enjoyed the use of brute force.  
Taking a deep breath, Trip blew it slowly out of his mouth. â€œLook, Iâ€™m sorryâ€¦ That was a stupid thing to say.â€ He rubbed a hand over his eyes. â€œI know youâ€™re not that kinda guy. Itâ€™s thatâ€¦ Iâ€™m beat â€“ no pun intended â€“ and also a bit scrambled.â€  
Malcolm darted him a look, unobtrusively assessing. â€œItâ€™s all right. Thatâ€™s understandable,â€ he said quietly.  
â€œItâ€™s not all right,â€ Trip countered in frustration. â€œNothinâ€™ is all right.â€  
The grey eyes returned on him and this time lingered.  
â€œI think I know what you mean,â€ Malcolm said. â€œOne is gliding peacefully in a shuttlepod, testing upgrades, doing no harm, andâ€¦â€ He trailed, twisting his mouth in a lopsided smirk and making a clicking sound.  
Trip shook his head. â€œTook us centuries but we finally learned to respect each other on Earth. And now that weâ€™re out here, all we seem to do is bump into hostile aliensâ€¦â€ He threw a hand up in the air. â€œWhy should people be so bent on shootinâ€™ others out of the sky?â€  
It was a perfunctory question, but Malcolm put down his cup and got lost in the dark liquid inside it. â€œI suppose there is some kind ofâ€¦ inborn aggressiveness. A desire to dominate, to be more powerful than the next person.â€ He looked up. â€œAnd even on Earth, we might not engage in war anymore but we certainly havenâ€™t wiped out things like violence and antagonism.â€  
Trip studied his friend. This friend. He had never had a friend like Malcolm. His buddies had mostly been the exact opposite of this man: loud and rambunctious. Heâ€™d had a great time with them, but with Malcolmâ€¦ it was different. He could have never had a conversation like this one with any of his buddies back at home. Malcolm seemed to bring out his more poised self; just as he seemed to bring out Malcolmâ€™s mischievous one. Yes, their friendship seemed to work in such a way that it made each of them a more balanced individual.  
â€œBut why are people like that?â€ Trip insisted, thinking aloud. He watched as a pale smile tugged at Malcolmâ€™s lips.  
â€œYouâ€™re touching on some rather weighty questions, Commander. The mystery of evil.â€  
Trip speared a morsel of meat and lifted the fork, letting it hover in front of his mouth. â€œIt sure is a mystery where evil comes from,â€ he said, intrigued.  
Leaning back in his chair, Malcolm stretched his arms so as not to lose hold of his cup, and Trip watched his focus turn inward. Malcolm always liked a deep subject of conversation.  
â€œNo one will ever know, I suppose,â€ the Lieutenant eventually said, in that deep voice of his. â€œBut I believe that we are all born with both good and evil in us.â€ He heaved an introspective breath. â€œTwo sides warring. The important thing is not to let evil win.â€  
It was something Trip had never thought about too much, to be honest. This dichotomy in every personâ€¦ Sure, people were all capable of acting well or foully, but as far as he was concerned people were, in general terms, either good or bad. Might be a simplistic view of the world, but he had never really considered the fact that a calloused criminal, for example, might also have some good in himâ€¦ Or that there might be a real evil side to himself, for that matter.  
He lifted his eyes and found Malcolm watching him closely. â€œYa donâ€™t believe in the â€˜noble savageâ€™? You know â€“ Rousseau,â€ he threw him, secretly delighted at the look of disbelief that briefly appeared on his friendâ€™s face. After the way the man had teased him, that time in the shuttlepod, about the American and British educational systems, Trip thoroughly enjoyed it when he got a chance to drop a nonchalant hint that comic books werenâ€™t the only type of books heâ€™d spent time on, in his formative years.  
â€œAh, well, thatâ€™s an interesting theory,â€ Malcolm replied, quickly hiding his surprise. â€œGood by nature when in the state of nature and corrupted by societyâ€¦â€ His grey eyes narrowed again. â€œCanâ€™t say I agree with it, though. Evil is just tooâ€¦â€ He trailed and pulled a face, adding, â€œI donâ€™t know. I just canâ€™t see it as being a product of society. It feels bigger that that.â€  
Trip put down his fork, giving up for good on the rest of his meal. He wasnâ€™t hungry. â€œYou believe in the devil?â€ he asked directly. An image of his small sister whining â€˜the devil made me do itâ€™ had flashed through his mind.  
Malcolm jerked his head sideways. â€œNot as the deformed figure of many an old painting,â€ he said with a soft snort. â€œIf anything, I think he would be just the opposite, very attractive.â€  
He sounded as if he had given the matter quite a bit of thought before today.  
â€œEvil is a definite force, and a very powerful one,â€ he added pensively. â€œOne that can have a lot of allure: whatever it is, I believe it hides behind beautiful appearances, the better to trick us.â€  
Silence fell, as Trip pondered the words. Evil as something treacherously attractive was an interesting concept.  
He was glad Malcolm had come to seek him out - for he had no doubt the man wasnâ€™t here by chance. Malcolm had a quiet way of being his friend, of knowing when to be there for him. Like tonight, for example. The tension of that fateful mission and the sweltering heat on that moon had left him drained, but not quite in the mood for sleep. A chat with a friend was just what Trip had needed. Well, in reality, a philosophical discussion of this type would probably knock him unconscious in no time.  
â€œSoâ€¦ good and evil in each of us, huh?â€ Trip wondered, leaning back and rubbing his neck. â€œNow that ya mention it, Lieutenant,â€ he quipped, â€œIâ€™ve noticed the evil glint in your eye when you fire those phase cannons.â€  
â€œYou have no idea how wicked I can get,â€ Malcolm replied deadpan, and because of the manâ€™s rather sober mood tonight, for a moment Trip took him seriously. But then the Lieutenant shot him a look and added, â€œCanâ€™t let you off the hook, after what you said before, about us military men.â€ Bringing the cup to his lips, he sipped on his tea.  
Trip bit his lip. If he was honest with himself, he knew where his angry remark had come from, before: guilt.  
â€œActually,â€ he admitted a little self-consciously, â€œWhen I said that, I think deep down I was mad at myself.â€  
There was a puzzled pause.  
â€œHow is that?â€  
Malcolm was studying him with eyes that were cautiously curious and Trip winced. He wasnâ€™t too proud of what he was about to say. â€œI guess itâ€™s because I did just what I was accusinâ€™ you military men of: applied myself real passionately in givinâ€™ Zhoâ€™Kaan a good whackinâ€™.â€  
Maybe there was an evil side to everybody, himself includedâ€¦ There had been a moment when Trip had really hated the alien. In the heat of their fight, he had taken aâ€¦ well yes, a wicked pleasure in landing him a few hard punches. It had felt positively good. And that, later, had left a bitter taste in his mouth. He had never thought of himself as a brutal man.  
Malcolmâ€™s eyes bore into him. â€œYou are not feeling guilty about that, are you?â€ he asked. â€œI donâ€™t endorse violence for its own sake, but that Arkonian had shot you down, Trip. Without provocation and without warning.â€  
â€œI know.â€ Trip winced again. â€œBut in the end we came to an understanding. Why did it take beatinâ€™ the hell out of each other? Couldnâ€™t there have been a less... crude, more intelligent way?â€  
Malcolm paused, averting his eyes in thought.  
â€œSometimes things work out in a strange way,â€ he said eventually. He licked his lips, hesitating, before adding, â€œSometimes it takes a good quarrel to form a friendship.â€  
Trip knew immediately what Malcolm was referring to, but the words, rather than making him feel better, gave him another stab of guilt.  
â€œThat time, in the shuttlepod, I badly misjudged you, Malcolm,â€ he said, pushing his plate away in frustration. .  
Emotion flew across Malcolmâ€™s face â€œThey were special circumstances,â€ he murmured. â€œWe both made mistakes. Adversity brings out the best and the worst in people.â€  
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Trip squeezed his eyes shut. â€œI hate it when Iâ€™m a poor judge of character,â€ he breathed out darkly. â€œIt shouldnâ€™t happen. But itâ€™s happened again today. That Arkonian wasnâ€™t really bad, justâ€¦ misled.â€ He heard Malcolm shift on his seat.  
â€œPerhaps, Commander. In any case, no need to feel guilty. Today, like then, the good in you has won.â€  
â€œAnd how do you know that?â€ Trip said in a tight voice, reopening his eyes. â€œYou werenâ€™t down there; you didnâ€™t see what happened.â€  
â€œBecause I was on the bridge when you refused to be pulled out with the transporter and leave yourâ€¦ old buddy behind,â€ Malcolm replied, repeating the words Trip had used with Archer over the comm.  
Trip frowned at the odd stress he thought he had heard Malcolm put on them. â€œIâ€™m not sure how much of a friend Zhoâ€™Kaanâ€™s become to me, but I suppose heâ€™s no longer my enemy,â€ he commented.  
The doors opened to admit a couple of crewmen who walked to the drink dispenser, too deep in cheerful conversation to be aware of their presence. They watched the pair silently for a moment, Trip wishing he could steal a bit of their light-heartedness. As the crewmen were leaving again with their drinks, Trip turned and saw that Malcolmâ€™s head had fallen forward, chin propped on one hand, and his eyes were closed. He didnâ€™t look asleep, just damn worn out. For the first time he realised how tired the man really was. He had been so concentrated on his own feelings that everything else had faded into the background.  
â€œLong day, huh?â€ he said softly.  
Malcolm slowly lifted his head, blinking his eyes open, and heaved a deep breath. â€œYou put my discipline to the test today, Commander,â€ he murmured, passing a hand over his eyes. â€œWe were bloody worried about you, and when we finally made contact, and you said you wouldnâ€™t leave that alien behind, I was tempted to transport you out regardless of orders.â€  
The corners of Tripâ€™s mouth curved up of their own accord. â€œI wouldâ€™ve liked to see the face of the Captâ€™n if you had,â€ he said with a soft chuckle.  
Malcolmâ€™s eyes grew steely. Then he picked up his cup and buried his nose in it, taking a slow sip. He looked positively pissed-off.  
â€œMalcolm?â€ Trip ventured after a moment of surprise. â€œWhat have I said? Whatâ€™s the problem?â€  
â€œNothing,â€ the Lieutenant predictably bit back, his voice revealingly tense. â€œYouâ€™re right; itâ€™s been a long day. Perhaps itâ€™s time we got some rest.â€ He pushed his chair back and stood.  
Trip sat up, ready to stop him. â€œWhat happened wasnâ€™t your fault,â€ he said firmly, searching the grey eyes. They flickered; then looked away.  
Malcolm crossed his arms over his chest. â€œI didnâ€™t see that vessel coming,â€ he said, his hands tightening their grip. â€œWhen sensors picked it up, it was already closing on you.â€  
â€œThatâ€™s exactly what Iâ€™m sayinâ€™: youâ€™re not responsible.â€  
â€œPerhaps not. But it doesnâ€™t matter.â€ Malcolmâ€™s facial muscles clenched. â€œThe safety of this crew is my responsibility.â€ His arms suddenly came undone, hanging limply at his sides as he added, in a defeated tone, â€œNo matter how many moons I scannedâ€¦â€ He didnâ€™t finish the thought.  
â€œYou and the others did all you could to find me,â€ Trip said gently. â€œI know that.â€  
â€œIf you hadnâ€™t rigged up that transceiver, youâ€™d be dead by now.â€  
The words rang with restrained emotion. Malcolm held Tripâ€™s gaze for a moment; then let himself drop tiredly on the chair again. â€œI really feared we had lost you for good,â€ he breathed out.  
Trip knew Malcolmâ€™s concern had been professional but also personal. A friend worried about another friend. â€œIt wouldnâ€™t have been your fault,â€ he insisted, even though he knew the words were wasted.  
There was no mistaking how tense a day this had been for the shipâ€™s Armoury Officer. Trip watched his friend try and drown his troubles in his tea; but the drink had obviously grown cold, for he grimaced and put the cup down.  
â€œWell, I honestly thought that my time had come,â€ Trip murmured. He waited until Malcolm had met his eyes again and let his gaze go softer. â€œYou mad at me, for staying on that moon with Zhoâ€™Kaan?â€  
â€œThe man had almost killed you,â€ Malcolm blurted out in the high pitch of dismay.  
Trip bit his lip, mulling the words. â€œSomehow, in the end, after he and I had stopped fightingâ€™â€¦ I couldnâ€™t leave him behind.â€ He swallowed. â€œAfter all, he risked dying too.â€  
â€œI was bloody well going to make sure he did,â€ Malcolm muttered dangerously.  
A bittersweet grin tugged at Tripâ€™s mouth. â€œYa were gonna let your evil side win?â€ He watched Malcolm flounder and this only made his mouth shape into a more distinct upward curve.  
â€œDefinitely,â€ Malcolm finally replied, and a small smile appeared on his own lips. â€œI wouldnâ€™t have been so generous, in your place.â€  
Trip suddenly felt his chest constrict. â€œI came close to shooting him,â€ he admitted hoarsely, all lightness gone.  
Malcolm silently leaned back in his seat, too respectful to enquire openly, but Trip could see clearly that he was wondering what had happened; well, he wondered himself what had stopped him. Eyes on the table, he replayed the scene in his mind.  
â€œWe fought like madmen,â€ he croaked out, getting lost in his memory, â€œTill we had no breath left in our lungs. No one was gettinâ€™ the better hand, and in the end we collapsed to the ground, too spent to go on. Then I dragged myself up to my feet, picked up the phase pistol and...â€  
Trip saw himself in slow motion, casting the weapon as far away as his over-exerted muscles had allowed him. What had gone through his mind? Why had he not used it against the Arkonian? He had been so damn furiousâ€¦ Suddenly he knew.  
â€œâ€¦I saw the fear and despair in his eyes,â€ he said, refocusing on Malcolm. â€œIt was the same fear and despair that I was feelinâ€™.â€ Trip shrugged. â€œI realised we were just two fellas stranded on a moon. He might come from another world, but we werenâ€™t all that different and, especially, we were in the same hell. If the guy couldnâ€™t see that we needed to work together to get out of it, then I was gonna find a way to make him understand. So, instead of pointing the gun at him, I threw it away, far enough that neither of us could reach it.â€  
Lowering his eyes, Malcolm slowly swirled the liquid in the cup he was holding. He could be cool and impenetrable, but right now Trip felt sure he knew what the man was thinking.  
â€œThere isnâ€™t much to be proud of, actually,â€ Trip drawled out. â€œPart of it was that I really wanted to get out of there, and needed his help.â€  
â€œYou didnâ€™t leave him behind,â€ Malcolm repeated, pinning him with an intense gaze. â€œIt made me curse a blue streak, but it is something to be proud of, Trip.â€ He pursed his lips. â€œYou let good win.â€  
They held each otherâ€™s eyes for a long moment, and Tripâ€™s heart felt lighter.  
â€œIf you say so, Lieutenant,â€ he replied with a big grin. â€œYou seem to be the expert on more than bruises and weaponsâ€¦â€  
Malcolm pressed two fingers on his eyes; then pushed tiredly to his feet. â€œRight now,â€ he said, â€œI wouldnâ€™t be able to tell the difference between a phase pistol and a hairdryer.â€ He hid a yawn behind a hand.  
Tripâ€™s chuckle turned into a groan as his battered body protested his attempt to rise from the chair. He groped for Malcolmâ€™s shoulder, his other hand on his own back while he slowly straightened to a standing position.  
â€œBloody hell, Trip,â€ Malcolm commented. â€œAs soon as you are better Iâ€™ve got to teach you a few effective self-defence moves.â€  
They were trudging towards their quarters, with Trip making a show of leaning on Malcolm more heavily than he really needed, when at the end of the corridor the turbo lift doors opened and Tâ€™Pol appeared. Trip immediately dropped his act and straightened, which earned him an amused look from his friend.  
â€œEvening, Subcommander,â€ he greeted warmly, moving aside to let the Vulcan Officer get by. Malcolm nodded.  
â€œCommander, Lieutenant,â€ Tâ€™Pol gracefully acknowledged, barely sparing them a glance before continuing on her way.  
Trip turned all the way to enjoy the rear view.  
â€œTrip, youâ€™re staring,â€ Malcolm admonished, keeping his voice low.  
â€œYouâ€™re the one who asked me if Iâ€™d ever noticed Tâ€™Polâ€™s bum, Lieutenant,â€ Trip murmured back, his eyes still on the retreating form.  
â€œUhm, right,â€ Malcolm stuttered. He cast a glance in Tâ€™Polâ€™s direction.  
Trip snorted softly. â€œRight,â€ he echoed.  
â€œYa donâ€™t suppose Tâ€™Pol is the devil in disguise?â€ he wondered after the lady in question had disappeared, a silly grin plastered on his face. â€œShe sure is attractive, and those ears areâ€¦ a bit devilish, come to think of it.â€  
Malcolm just shot him a meaningful look, not deigning giving him an answer, and they continued on their way, walking in silence till they were in front of Malcolmâ€™s quarters.  
â€œWell, this is my stop.â€ Malcolm raised a hand to trigger the door open. Before entering he hesitated a moment. â€œIâ€™ll see you tomorrow, Commander.â€  
The words were not as insignificant as they might have sounded: Trip heard it in the low octave and read it in the unexpected depth of Malcolmâ€™s eyes. Something along the lines of â€˜it was a close shave but youâ€™re still here, thank Godâ€™ was hidden in between them.  
He felt like he had to say something, but Malcolmâ€™s restraint, when it came to openly showing emotions, made him falter.  
â€œIâ€™m glad you felt in the mood for a late cup of tea,â€ he ended up blurting out. â€œA bit of company is just what I needed tonight.â€ He knew, of course, that the reticent Lieutenant would never admit to having come to the mess hall on purpose.  
Malcolm cleared his throat uncomfortably. â€œI do enjoy a good conversation,â€ he said, eyes darting away. A note of mischief entering his voice, he added, â€œAlthough I wasnâ€™t expecting to discuss Rousseau.â€  
â€œAh, maybe youâ€™d have preferred Superman,â€ Trip commented innocently. â€œIâ€™ll save that for the next time.â€  
Malcolm shot him a narrowed-eye look. â€œIâ€™m hoping there wonâ€™t be a next time, Commander. A next time of this time,â€ he specified.  
Trip started moving away, taking a few backwards steps along the corridor in the direction of his quarters. â€œWell, up to you, Lieutenant. Itâ€™s your job to keep an eye on me.â€ He flashed Malcolm a wicked smile.  
â€œNow thatâ€™s evil,â€ Malcolm grunted after him.  
THE END


End file.
